A Distant Bell
by Basmathgirl
Summary: Set after Journey's End but before End of Time, Donna is sent for a very special office visit.


**Disclaimer:** considering this wouldn't let me sleep until I had written it down in the middle of the night, I don't think I'm in a position to say I own anything here beyond the angst.  
 **A/N:** written for the **hc_bingo** challenge prompt "counseling" [except that I would have spelt it "counselling", being British]

* * *

 **A Distant Bell**

.

It felt like being sent to the headmaster's office; a punishment for bad behaviour. Normally Donna would have protested about her treatment. It wasn't her fault; she was merely the victim here. How bloody dare they think she had deliberately destroyed that model of the pepper pot thing! This was intimidation, that's what it was.

It was also so very tiring. Donna felt all her usual fight melt away as she sat clenching her hands together. She didn't want this, had never asked for it, and wouldn't put up with it anymore. If only she could remember what exactly 'this' was that continually upset her.

There was a rustle of movement at the door and then it slowly opened to reveal the woman sent from HR; all glasses on a gold chain, tweed skirt suit and a superiority complex. Yes, Donna had met her sort before.

"Ah, there you are," the woman remarked as she swept into the office and deposited a bundle of files on the desk. "Donna Noble, isn't it?"

"Guilty as charged," Donna deadpanned. "What can I do for you?"

The woman was not amused. Not in the slightest. "We are very concerned about your destructive tendencies."

"Why's that, Graham?" Donna jokily retorted.

Not even a twitch of recognition of the TV host's name. Oh well, that proved the woman had no sense of humour or frame of reference for popular culture. Then again, such people often didn't. Probably didn't even own a telly, Donna mused.

Frowning heavily, the woman stated, "My name is Peters. Evidently you are having problems recalling pieces of information. Not if you have no idea what a Dalek is when you see a model of one." She gave a derisory sniff.

That riled Donna. "Look, I may not know the name of them, but I do know that the little bastards are far too dangerous to have around."

"It was merely a papier mâché creation," Peters argued. "It was as if you have a personal vendetta against them."

"And what if I do?!"

"Would you care to explain that, Donna," Peters calmly encouraged her to talk. "What happened?"

Some moments passed in silence as Donna stared blankly back at her. Finally, she quietly confessed, "I don't know. I can't remember."

"Nothing?" Peters wondered in surprise, a slightly mocking smirk playing about her lips.

"That's right; take the mick out of me when I've lost at least the last two years of my life. It must feel great to be so smug and superior that it wasn't you. A right chuckle."

"Such frustration would possibly create a need to lash out," Peters noted; more to herself than anybody else. "Do you feel any other urges?"

Wanting to now shock her with the truth, Donna answered, "Well, since you ask, I've been thinking about throwing myself off a roof."

Peters gasped and hastily wrote something down.

"Don't go thinking I'm a nutter or anything," Donna warned with a stab of her finger towards the woman's notes, "because I most certainly am not. The problem is: this world ain't right."

"Not right," Peters slowly repeated. "In what way 'not right'?"

Donna sighed, realising she would have to explain more, in some way. Now how could she do that in terms this Peters woman would understand? "Do you remember that programme 'Life On Mars', where he woke up one morning living the wrong life? Well, that's what it's like." Donna then took an encouraging breathe. "I'm not supposed to be here; living like this. I'm supposed to be somewhere else instead, doing an entirely different job."

Peters softly queried, "What job?"

"I don't remember. It's like clutching at water as it slips through your fingers. Sometimes I get glimpses, just for a brief second and then it's gone," Donna admitted, now pleased to get these horrible thoughts off her chest. Perhaps if she said them out loud they'd finally go away and stop haunting her. "I just know that this world I live in is wrong, as though something really important is missing."

Funnily enough, Peters' whole demeanour changed during the confession. There was a new light within her, as though she had the answer on University Challenge but couldn't buzz in. Instead, she leaned towards Donna and asked, "Would you be willing to undertake some expert counselling? We can offer one of the finest minds in the country."

"I suppose so. It can't do any harm to try," Donna agreed. If they were willing to do this for her it must be bad. "When would all this be likely to happen?"

"We might be able to fit you in within the next couple of days. I will inform you when I know which counsellor it is," Peters offered, now sympathetically smiling. "As you might be aware, here at UNIT we like to take considerable care of all our employees."

"If you say so," Donna couldn't help scoffing. Not many companies even considered going the extra mile; and especially not for a temp. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Peters tried to hide her bristling reaction. "We hope to persuade you in due course. If I may, I'll double check your contact details before you go. And then I'll get you booked in before I place you in the pre-care of our man who will escort you for the time being."

"It all sounds a bit cloak and dagger," Donna remarked. "Am I allowed to know his name?" she wondered, expecting something a touch spy-ish.

"Yes," Peters replied, glancing down at her notes. "It's Shaun Temple. He should take very good care of you for us."

At least his name didn't sound too pompous. That was a relief. "What will he do? Get me to talk and that or just drive about with me?"

"Erm... His job isn't to talk but he should make you feel very safe. It's just what the Doctor ordered."

Fortunately, Donna never caught on to the little pun. It was better that way; for all of them.


End file.
